


Fears by Firelight

by Lucy_Claire



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5759611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Claire/pseuds/Lucy_Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy discuss their fears and feelings for each other at the worst possible time, right before the Grounders are set to attack the camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fears by Firelight

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 'You can't protect me' requested by Tumblr user theman-with-theplan

Cannibals. Not only were they dealing with a territorial tribe that spears people to death, who Octavia somehow got herself involved with, they had cannibals out there too.

Clarke wished the adults had bothered to prepare them in any way, send them down with any supplies or help, before springing on them that they were going down to the ground, because as much as survival triggered teamwork and ingenuity, she didn’t think they could survive forever fighting against these Grounders.

It didn’t help that they were quickly going down in numbers, they had landed as one hundred and were now somewhere around sixty-four. As much as it hurt her as a medic that she couldn’t save the few that could have been helped, she could see that it hurt Bellamy more. Bellamy had declared himself the leader, taken responsibility for all of them and tried to get them all to unwind, to live the way they couldn’t up on the Ark, and quickly, no matter how hard they tried to keep things at camp how they were, they started losing people in a variety of ways, to fights, to Grounders, to the plague Murphy brought back and to fear of living any longer on this planet. As much as Clarke didn’t agree with anything he did or said at first, the more he began to change, to care and to prove himself a good leader the more she liked him, cared for him — the less she wanted to risk losing him like the others.

The sun had gone down while everyone was scrambling to set up traps, bombs and weapons to spare. Several of them had taken shifts to watch the perimeter and others had gone back into their tents, to get whatever rest they could. Bellamy’s silhouette stayed put near the campfire, holding one of the rifles they found in the bunker, posture and knees threatening to buckle under the exhaustion, dark circles quickly making themselves at home under his eyes, his long face paler than it should ever be.

Clarke stepped up to him, wiping her sweaty hands on her legs. “I hate to ask stupid questions, but, are you okay?”

Bellamy offered her his usual cocky smirk but it came out more tired, more genuinely amused and accompanied by a chuckle. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

“Rest easy, Princess, I won’t fall asleep on the job.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Bellamy’s tired smile fell off his face as his eyes got slightly wider. He turned slightly to face her properly, head bent so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look him in the eye. “Then what is it you’re worried about?”

“You.”

“Why? You can’t stand me, you’d probably find it easier to run the camp your way if I wasn’t here.”

“That’s not true! Not anymore.” Clarke put a hand on his arm, lightly bunching the material of his jacket in her palm. “Incase you haven’t noticed, we need you, Bellamy. You’re actually my biggest help, you’re what’s been keeping us afloat in this crisis.”

“I was going to run away not too long ago, remember? I shot Jaha and I tried to run away. I’m only here because I ran away. Don’t make me out to be this great leader when I’m not.”

“But you are,” Clarke insisted. “And what you did before now doesn’t matter anymore, you had your reasons, the same reasons you have now — to protect Octavia, to protect others.”

Bellamy opened his mouth slightly, like he was just thinking about voicing an answer, then shut it and shook his head.

A scout came running back into camp, yelling that the Grounders were getting closer and that the bombs were ready to go off.

Bellamy moved to follow the scout but Clarke grabbed a tighter hold on his jacket. “Wait! Don’t go yet.”

“I have to go. This is all our lives on the line now.”

“I know but —“ worry clouded Clarke’s mind. Bellamy dying was a high possibility now, or even just getting hurt and being to far away for her to help him. “how about I show you which parts you need to keep protected, incase you get attacked? Some are more critical, like your jugular and wrists —”

“Princess.”

“ — and there’s this spot at the top of your spine —”

“Clarke!”

Clarke dropped her hand, curling her fingers into fists to keep herself from yanking him back away from the land-mines.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to risk you dying today.”

Bellamy’s eyes softened, the hints of a conflicted smile played at his lips as he reached out to touch her shoulders. “Clarke, you know can’t protect me. You said it yourself, I’m the one who does the protecting here.”

“Doesn’t mean that someone can’t look out for you, even the guards had others at their backs when times got rough.”

“You know, when I was a kid my mom would read a lot of books about Ancient Rome with me, that’s where I got Octavia’s name,” Bellamy told her, his smile growing with fondness. “There was this poet called Juvenal, I don’t remember most of what he said but I remember one line he said about guards — _who guards the guardians themselves?_ They’re too busy watching others to watch their own backs, so who does that leave to save them?”

“The medics.”

Bellamy laughed quietly, sliding his hands down from her shoulders to grip her upper arms gently. “I’m really glad to know you care because I didn’t think you did.”

“But?”

“No but.”

Clarke removed one hand from her arm and held onto it with her own, his long fingers quickly curling over hers. “Of course I care about you, I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“Then I guess we’re both idiots.”

Clarke huffed out a small laugh, thumbing the knuckles of the hand holding hers. “I guess we are.”

“This is literally the worst time to have this conversation.”

“It is.”

“We should talk, a lot, once this is all over.”

“If that’s an incentive for you to stay safe and come back, then we should.”

Bellamy let go of her to cup her face and kiss her forehead.

“May we meet again,” said Clarke.

“We will, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr!](http://lucyclairedelune.tumblr.com) :D 
> 
> Don't forget to comment! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧


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